


Northward

by QueenOfMotherfuckingTerrasen



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post Kingdom of Ash, a character we never see!, go easy on me!, he missed so much shit that lucky bastard, in a place we've never seen!, its about Vaughan!, my first throne of glass work!, post empire of storms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfMotherfuckingTerrasen/pseuds/QueenOfMotherfuckingTerrasen
Summary: Vaughan's orders were simple. “Go North. Find Lorcan, bring him back.” He was supposed to be looking for Lorcan but Vaughan had stopped carrying about Maeve's orders a long time ago.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre, Fenrys/Vaughan (Throne of Glass)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 71





	Northward

_“Go North. Find Lorcan, bring him back.”_ Technically, he was supposed to be looking for Lorcan, out there in the bitter cold. Supposed to be. Vaughan used to be good at following orders but that ended several years ago. Maeve didn’t even notice the falter, she was too focused on whatever she was planning. So it was _her fault_ that Vaughan took her orders as the perfect timing to mutter _fuck it_ under his breath and never look back. 

He didn’t have ties back in Doranelle. No family, no property, no friends. Most of the Cadre didn’t at this point. That was kind of the point, they were hardened warriors of Maeve. If Vaughan had a strange sense of humor, he might find it funny. The Cadre had been together for centuries through great evil and somewhat decent times, and now in a matter of what was it months? _Had it only been months?_ They were scattered across the world. 

Rowan was gone off with that girl from Mistward. Aelin...something. Lorcan, the _ass_ , was somewhere in Erilea and Vaughan didn’t care where. He might be in the north _Gods, I hope not. Don’t fuck this up for us, Lorcan,_ or he was in the south. Fenrys and Gavriel were in southern Erilea looking for Lorcan as Vaughan was supposed to be. He hoped they didn’t find him either. Then he’d be called back. Connall was no doubt fucking Maeve as soon as he left, he’d never cared for the black runt. 

This far away, the blood oath was merely a thorn in his side. Perhaps that’s why he built the cabin so far out in the Frozen Wastes. In Doranelle, it was a constant pulse - a twisted heartbeat but here it was silent, for the most part, it still bothered him of course. _Find Lorcan Salvaterre,_ it whispered. “Shut up,” he whispered against the howling wind, lifting the ax over his shoulder before slamming it into the wood effectively splitting it in two.

He “looked” for Lorcan whenever he left the cabin. He “looked” for him when he went hunting, chopped wood, fed the animals in the barn, or went to the nearest town (nearest being fifty miles away) to buy the supplies he couldn’t find in the forest. The effort wasn’t all that there but Vaughan had figured out it was the act of it made the blood oath go back to sleep. 

“You’re not going to ask about that Lorcan fellow again, are you?” The bartender asked as he walked in for a pint, the first thing he did when he walked in the nameless town. Why it was nameless, Vaughan didn’t care. He walked up to the bar, leaned against it with his coins already in hand, the blood oath nagging in his head. 

“Has a man named Lorcan -”

The bartender took his coin, poured a tankard and pushed it towards him quickly in an effort to shut him up. “No, and you know it.” he left to clean glasses, leaving Vaughan to drink his ale in peace, the blood oath going quiet. It worked every time. 

Then one day it changed, Vaughan was in the barn, scratching the barn cat under its spotted chin. _Come back_ . It whispered, urgent but quieter from the distance between wherever he was to Doranelle or wherever Maeve was. _Come back_. 

A year ago, he’d listen, he would have flown back to his queen without a question, to do whatever she commanded but much had changed in a year. He built a cabin with his own two hands, he owned chickens and sheep he knew would die without his feeding hand, a barn cat that never truly stayed in the barn and sat on his lap when he sat by the fire and a herding dog who wagged its tail every time it looked at him. Vaughan didn’t care what Maeve wanted, he wasn’t going to abandon the life he carefully built from scratch for her. 

“I haven’t found Lorcan yet.” was all he said. The oath went quiet, Vaughan continued to scratch the barn cat under its chin. “I probably should name you, shouldn’t I?” he chuckled to himself. 

The second order was more persistent than the first. _Come back_ it whispered in his ear as he continued on with his routine of chopping wood, tending to the animal, and relaxing in front of the fire to read whatever books he bought in the nameless town with two animals relaxing on the sofa with him. “I haven’t found Lorcan yet,” he repeated to silence the oath. Vaughan wasn’t a pious man but he prayed Lorcan would stay unfound, that Gavriel and Fenrys were as traitorous as he was, and he could continue to live in this peace he carved out for himself.

The benefit of living far north in the Frozen Wastes was there were little to no people. The disadvantage was there was no news because of the little to no people. Vaughan didn’t know of the battle at Orynth. He didn't know of Gavriel’s death or his son or any of the other shit that went down that day. Vaughan did know one thing. 

The blood oath died. One minute he was on his sofa, reading some novel with the cat on his lap (who he named Donny) the next he was doubled over in pain. The book landed on the floor with a _thunk_ and the cat jumped away startled. He gripped his stomach, hissing in pain. No one said a blood oath being cut by death was a pleasant thing and Vaughan had never expected to feel it. It burned like hellfire, the scar across his palm throbbing like it was being branded. As quickly as the pain appeared, it vanished, leaving Vaughan still doubled over and breathing heavily. 

“She’s dead.” the words fell out of his mouth as he tried to get his lungs to function normally again. “She’s fucking dead!” It hurt but he started laughing, the feeling of freedom after so long was strange - it was bizarre, like a drug in his system he was high on. Donny the cat and Fen the sheepdog looked at each other and seemed to nod as if to agree on one thing. _The man who feeds us is batshit crazy._

One would logically think Vaughan, now free from Maeve, might pack up his animals and go back to Dornalle to find out _what the fuck happened_ . The Queen of the Faeries had been killed, what the _fuck_ did he miss? Most might go and do this but Vaughan was not most. Instead, Vaughan flew into the nameless town in his beast form and drank every man and woman under the table before flying back to his cabin, crashing through a window, fixing the window as best as a drunk man could then passing out on the sofa with a shit-eating grin on his face. In the morning, he had to deal with his hangover and the broken window. 

Slowly, Vaughan grew used to the feeling of freedom again. He stayed in his cabin, tended to his animals, and continued to chop wood because he wanted to. There were no more whispers, no more orders to avoid or lies to tell. He stopped whispering about Lorcan and stopped asking about him in the pub. The bartender was relieved, he though Vaughan had found Lorcan, whoever the fuck that was. 

Peace ended with a knock on his door. He was tending the fire when it started, his delicately pointed ears perking at the sound of it. His hands stilled, his fingers gripping the log. Donny was sleeping on the table where he ate his meals while Fen was resting his tired paws on the sofa. _It’s nothing_ , he thought to himself after a second and he carefully put the log in the fireplace only to drop it when the knock came again - harder this time. 

Fen lifted his head up and let out a bark then another, Donny the cat picking up her head and squinting at the mutt. The knocking continued, the door rattling. Vaughan stood and watched it. He was unused to his door being knocked on - no one in the nameless town ever bothered to walk or ride to his cabin. With a sigh, he walked to the door, Fen at his heels, his hand finding the hilt of his knife. Pulling it out of its sheath, he gripped it with one hand and opened the door with the other. 

“Who the hell-” then he stopped and stared. 

On the threshold of his cabin stood Fenrys Moonbeam in all his handsome glory. Covered head to toe in furs and still shivering like a leaf yet grinning at him with two new scars stretching down his face from his brows to his jaw. It didn’t make him less beautiful, nothing would ever make Fenrys less beautiful. “Oh, thank fuck, it is _you_ .” Fenrys breathed out, a cloud of mist leaving his perfect lips, he let out a shaky laugh. “You missed so much _shit_ , _you lucky bastard_ , let me in will ya?”

**Author's Note:**

> Vaughan is such an interesting character. He shows up ONCE and he's never mentioned again. He just vanishes from the story. This is basically what I think he's doing before Sarah can open her mouth to correct me! ;P


End file.
